If it weren’t for the fact that some upstanding conservatives such as Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter had been so outspoken about their antipathy to John McCain, I would have suspected that the campaign being waged against the man had been entirely manufactured by James Carville and underwritten by George Soros.
As I’ve written elsewhere, Sen. McCain was not my first choice or even my second or third. I would have preferred Newt Gingrich. Of those who actually got into the race, I initially backed Giuliani, but once he dropped out, I wound up voting for Mitt Romney in the California primary. I’m sorry my guys struck out, but I’ll be far more miserable if the Democrat wins in November, and, frankly, I don’t know why every Republican doesn’t feel the same way.
It strikes me that a lot of my conservative brethren have taken their eye off the big picture. By threatening to stay home in November rather than risk sullying their conscience by voting for an imperfect Republican, they’re saying they’d prefer to see a perfect Socialist waltz into the Oval Office.
Even though McCain isn’t the candidate of my dreams, I find it unbelievable that there are Republicans who honestly believe he’d be as awful as the anti-military, tax-raising, left-winger he’ll be facing off with in the fall. The mere fact that, as president, he wouldn’t be appointing ACLU-approved justices to the Supreme Court and that, unlike the opposition, he takes Islamic terrorism seriously strikes me as reason enough to support the guy.
Having gotten that off my chest, I’d like to suggest it’s high time we picked up where Lady Bird Johnson left off with her program to beautify the cities of America. For openers, how about if we tent Berkeley, California, and at long last fumigate the place? It wouldn’t even cost that much, as I’m pretty sure a bunch of ex-Marines would happily volunteer to get the job done.
I’m not too proud to admit that it would be far beyond my limited acting ability. I can barely stay awake when I’m looking at a politician whose mouth is moving. If I were staring at the back of his or her head and not only had to keep from nodding off, but appear alert and interested, they’d not only have to pay me a great deal of money, but they’d have to pay someone else to stand behind me and poke me with a sharp stick.